"Either you 're the coolest devil I 've met during thirty years of

soldiering," he commented, doubtfully, "or else the craziest. Who are

you, anyhow? I half believe you might be Bob Hampton, of Placer."

The other smiled grimly. "You have the name tolerably correct, old

fellow; likewise that delightful spot so lately honored by my

residence. In brief, you have succeeded in calling the turn perfectly,

so far as your limited information extends. In strict confidence I

propose now to impart to you what has hitherto remained a profound

secret. Upon special request of a number of influential citizens of

Placer, including the city marshal and other officials, expressed in

mass-meeting, I have decided upon deserting that sagebrush metropolis

to its just fate, and plan to add the influence of my presence to the

future development of Glencaid. I learn that the climate there is more

salubrious, more conducive to long living, the citizens of Placer being

peculiarly excitable and careless with their fire-arms."

The sergeant had been listening with open mouth. "The hell you say!"

he finally ejaculated.

"The undented truth, every word of it. No wonder you are shocked. A

fine state of affairs, isn't it, when a plain-spoken, pleasant-mannered

gentleman, such as I surely am,--a university graduate, by all the

gods, the nephew of a United States Senator, and acknowledged to be the

greatest exponent of scientific poker in this territory,--should be

obliged to hastily change his chosen place of abode because of the

threat of an ignorant and depraved mob. Ever have a rope dangled in

front of your eyes, sergeant, and a gun-barrel biting into your cheek

at the same time? Accept my word for it, the experience is trying on

the nerves. Ran a perfectly square game too, and those ducks knew it;

but there 's no true sporting spirit left in this territory any more.

However, spilled milk is never worth sobbing over, and Fate always

contrives to play the final hand in any game, and stocks the cards to

win. Quite probably you are familiar with Bobbie Burns, sergeant, and

will recall easily these words, 'The best-laid schemes o' mice and men

gang aft agley'? Well, instead of proceeding, as originally intended,

to the delightful environs of Glencaid, for a sort of a Summer

vacation, I have, on the impulse of the moment, decided upon crossing

the Styx. Our somewhat impulsive red friends out yonder are kindly

preparing to assist me in making a successful passage, and the citizens

of Glencaid, when they learn the sorrowful news of my translation,

ought to come nobly forward with some suitable memorial to my virtues.

If, by any miracle of chance, you should pull through, Wyman, I would

hold it a friendly act if you suggest the matter. A neat monument, for

instance, might suitably voice their grief; it would cost them far less

than I should in the flesh, and would prove highly gratifying to me, as

well as those mourners left behind in Placer."




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